


A Man Walks into a Bar

by NancyDfan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, Stanford Era, Young Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 15:46:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3416366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NancyDfan/pseuds/NancyDfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A man walks into a bar and sees his younger self hunched over the bar. Except this isn't a joke, and he's not laughing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Man Walks into a Bar

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd as always. If you see an error, let me know.

Dean watches him sulk in all leather and attitude. He sits at the bar and waves the bartender over. She props at the perfect angle, but Dean knows he doesn’t notice.

The bartender gives up and leaves the young man to stare at his whiskey. Dean considers approaching him for half a second; throw off the whole plan, but he doesn’t. Instead, Dean turns away and jogs to the nearest restroom.

Dean splashes cold water against his face and waits.

The door creaks, and he hears steps upon the tile. Dean turns to look, but the visitor wraps arms around him and tugs him to the floor. His head hits, and he’s seeing stars. Dean thrashes up and knocks the man aside, and he reaches for his neck to hold him still.

The other man has a different plan.  

He kicks at his side, and Dean flies against the pipes.

“Son of a bitch.”

Dean stands and ducks as punches aim at his face. He doesn’t remember having so much speed, and the young man knocks him against the chin. But the years give him experience, and Dean kicks out the man’s legs. In two short moves, Dean pins him against the wall.

“Easy, tiger. Just wanna talk.”

About a dozen emotions cross the other man’s face, and Dean waits for a smart ass retort. He’s not disappointed.

“Kiss my ass. I ain’t letting you have my kidneys.”

“While that might not be a bad idea, not interested. I’m here to talk.”

The other man bites his lip then lunges forward. Dean scrambles after him and pulls out his pistol before they reach the door. “I really don’t want to shoot myself, but you are makin it awful tempting.”

Younger Dean freezes. “How do I know that you’re-?

“You?”

“Yeah.”

“With this,” Dean reaches for the bag now tossed aside and performs the six step anti-monster proving ritual. As he passes each step, younger Dean relaxes. “See? Not a shifter or, uh, demon, or well, a lot of things you haven’t met yet.”

“Why you here?” he asks.

“Honestly?” Dean shrugs. “I have no idea. One minute I was lying in bed then the next I’m in a motel room I haven’t seen in fifteen years.”

“From the future?”

“Yeah.”

Young Dean folds his arms. “So why now? What’s so damn important about right now that you came back?”

“Been wondering that myself. Can’t tell ya.”

“Can’t tell you,” the other Dean snorts. “Awesome. Did you at least bring me a hoverboard, Marty?”

“Sorry. Left it in my other time machine.”

“The least you can do is buy me a drink. They still carry currency in, uh, what year are you from? 2035?”

“Try 2015.”

Young Dean recoils. “Damn. I did not age well.”

Dean reaches for his knife. “I outa cut off your balls.”

“You’ll only be hurting yourself.”

Dean shrugs. “I’ll heal.”

“How many times you’ve been hit on the head?” he scoffs. “Even I know it don’t work that way.”

“You’ll see.”

“Whatever,” Young Dean motions at the bartender. “Two beers.” When the beers arrive, he takes a swig before glancing over at him. “So, what’d you got to tell me?”

“Depends what you want I guess.”

Dean watches his younger self nod slightly. He knows what he’s thinking before he asks.

“You probably already know this, but, uh, Sam, Sam’s gone. He left for Stanford a couple weeks ago. Will I, will I see him again?”

“You’ll see Sam again. He’s probably back in my time right now working some spell to get me home.”

The other Dean smiles. “Thata boy.” He turns. “And dad? Where’s dad in 2015?”

Dean swallows thickly, and he doesn’t have to say the truth for the other to know. “Sorry, man.”

“How?”

“Can’t tell you.”

“That’s not fair. What the hell’s the point of you coming in the first place?”

Dean shakes his head. “Story of our life, but you can’t change it no matter what you do. Trust me; I’ve tried.”

“But things turn out alright in the end?”

Dean can’t lie. Not to him. “No, they don’t. But Sam’s there, and we save lives so it’s enough most days.”

“Great,” he mutters with an eye roll. “My life sucks, and I turn sappy.”

“Shut up.”

Dean grins as he watches the other smirk. He can see the weight of the world reflecting in his eyes, and he feels guilt for what the future holds. But it amazes him at the ease of his younger self’s undaunted movements.

“At least I make it through alive. Hell. Who knew? Figured I’d be dead by thirty.

And he doesn’t know how right he is. Dean remains silent unwilling to crush the look in the younger Dean’s eyes, but he offers a nod and a drink of his beer. 

“I live a sad life. Damn.”

Dean stops again. It’s self-serving, but he wishes he could alleviate the weight on his younger self’s mind. It’s over whelming, and he can almost see a moment of hopelessness.

But a shit eating grin fills his lips with damned determination, and he briefly remembers how he made it through himself.

“So, um, you leaving?”

Dean offers a roll of his shoulders. “I don’t know. Can’t control it.”

“Need, uh, need a place to stay?”

Dean eyes himself. “Are you propositioning me?” his younger self looks surprised. “I’ve used all your tricks.”

“Well, no. Hell no. I’m hot, but I don’t think I’m ready for that emotionally scarring experience.”

“Don’t knock it till you try it.”

“I don’t even wanna know.”

Dean breathes a laugh. “Listen, I’m gonna hit the road. Sam’ll have a spell soon. Just, uh, keep going. I want you to meet me again. Oh – and avoid that waitress in Tampa. Not a good idea.”

“Tampa, huh?” Young Dean raises an eyebrow. “Hey, how’d you know where to find me anyway? This is just a random bar. It can’t amount to a hill of beans in our life. Why here?”

“It’s where I met me all those years ago.”

And as Dean walks towards the door, he hears him mutter, “Son of a bitch.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
